


Petrichor (The Smell Of Soil After Rain)

by Atlas_Fox



Series: Sleepy Kenma [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Fluffy, Flustered Kuroo Tetsurou, M/M, Quiet, Rain, Sleepy Kozume Kenma, first draft, for when youre looking for something nice to read, hand holding, maybe ooc?, no beta we die like men, petrichor - Freeform, sleepy, soft, theyre just really soft and Kuroo doesnt know what to do about it, this is just soft and kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:48:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27322984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlas_Fox/pseuds/Atlas_Fox
Summary: The start of a series in which Kenma doesn't have an issue with sleep, but maybe he sleeps due to some issues.Kuroo is the designated "I found Kenma sleeping on the silver seats and I'm too scared to wake him up" resolution since he... doesn't get chewed out for waking him up.Today, it's raining and the start of Kuroo realising that maybe, Kenma has a heavy effect on his heart.*Hi! This is gonna be fun*
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: Sleepy Kenma [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994806
Comments: 7
Kudos: 66





	Petrichor (The Smell Of Soil After Rain)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I really love Kenma and he deserves to sleep and be snuggled by a flustered and adoring boyfriend.  
> So here we go, the first addition to the Sleepy Kenma series.
> 
> also, I TOTALLY headcanon Kuroo to be good at English/Japanese(?) because I want an excuse for him to be a big descriptive literature nerd and for Kenma to be the cutest geek of fictional knowledge.

It's raining again today. 

Actually, it's been raining almost consistently for the past six days, the entire town awash with grey as the clouds hang thick and heavy in the sky. Outside, wind shapes the falling water into moving curtains and Kenma hasn't stopped smiling. It's a small smile, one he reserves for finishing a good game or eating good food. Or, hanging out with his friends. He really does love the rain though, and he knew that if he had the time, he would have taken up photography just to take the occasional polaroid of his favourite natural phenomena. He doesn't really enjoy being wet, but, the rain has its moments.

It's quiet and cool as the rest of his team wind down and start packing up the court. He wasn't really paying attention today, but the same could be said for the rest of them. Rain does funny things to different people and he noted that maybe 30% of his team seemed sick of it. Well, that's too bad for them, now isn't it? It's a bit selfish but he doesn't do much to help pack up today aside from slip on his jacket and find a better view of the outside.

Thankfully, his school is smart enough to host and care for a thriving set of plants that are now a beautiful wash of the green and silver spectrum. He indulges himself to just watch, rationalising it as live tv. The air is cleaner today and his mind isn't plagued by that constant stress headache that took a habit into following him around since age 12. He feels safe and Kenma smiles at that. He leans his head back and breathes out, letting his shoulders fall slack against the stadium chairs and letting his eyes slip slowly shut, listening to natures white noise.

\------

Kuroo can't find him.

He's been looking for 20 damn minutes- which doesn't _sound_ like a long time, but the court isn't _that_ fucking big- and he _still_ can't find his setter. He has to be _somewhere_ , right? Where the Hell could he be?

"Kenma?" 

He listened to his voice bounce around the empty court and sighed when nothing came back. He felt a cold wind sweep into the unoccupied space and he cringed. The rain isn't really his thing. He doesn't like the cold when it's _supposed_ to be there, much less during the end of _spring_. Ugh, whatever, the rain isn't his issue here. He wandered around the small areas he supposed Kenma could be hiding in, but they all came up empty. The change rooms were also empty and so was the storeroom and the bathroom and the back exit. Kuroo sighed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose and frowning.

"Kenma come on, you're gonna get kicked off of the school grounds if they find you after hours!"

Still no reply. The rain sang softly outside, its constant veil of dull sound dampening the frustrations trying to crawl into his head. The rain was good at that, dulling the senses. Like natural alcohol, or getting high. He's sure he remembers an actual scientific reason why the rain does that actually, something about the white noise appeasing the senses. Anyways, Kenma, right, his missing setter.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, considering just _calling_ him to find out where he's holed up, but then he spied Kenma's bag, slumped up against one of the staircases leading to the audience seats. Of course, the literal only place he didn't check. Curious and a bit exasperated, he followed its trail, carrying the bag up with him as he climbed the steps. He passed each row, looking down them briefly and wrinkling his nose at the few scattered empty cans and packets. Do they really never clean up over here?

Eventually, he got to the second-highest set just as his hope began to wilt. There, curled up surprisingly well, was his setter. Kenma hadn't even gotten changed, he'd just put on his jacket (which was fitted and somehow still big on him?), picked up his phone and apparently fallen asleep. Kuroo wondered with some worry if he actually got enough sleep beforehand.

He worries a lot about him actually.

Kuroo crouched down and reached out a hand, brushing away hair as gently as he could before settling on his upturned cheek. 

"Kenma," he said quietly, a smile gracing his lips, "come on, you gotta wake up otherwise the night guards are gonna kick us both out."

Slowly, Kenma stirred, trying to curl into himself tighter, and consequently falling off of the seats he was stretched out on. There was a brief moment of wide-eyed panic from both of them before he hit the ground with a soft _'oof'._ Kuroo snickered with quiet laughter and Kenma blinked owlishly in front of him, looking up to meet Kuroos' soft and _very_ close gaze.

"You woke me up," he huffed, stifling a kitten-like yawn. Kuroo smiled again and stood up, offering him a hand and slinging Kenmas' school bag over his shoulder

"Come on," he said, "I'll carry you halfway home if you want, but you have to hold the umbrella."

Kenma blinked at the offer, like he was wondering if he could get away with sleeping in the gym for the night (he couldn't). But he pushed himself up instead, taking Kuroos' hand without much thought. He was still half asleep after all, and the rain was still falling. 

Kenmas' hands are gentle. Not soft- no one who plays volleyball can have soft hands- but just, gentle. Kind. Quiet. Like he's drawing stability or connection just from touch. 

"Ok," he mumbled, pulling his hand back to himself "umbrella."

Kuroo felt his face move in surprise, a soft blush actually settling on the tips of his ears and confusing the Hell out of his nerves.

_'The Hell? Why's... what?'_

"Kuroo?"

"Mmm?"

"The _umbrella_ , airhead. For the rain."

Right. Keep it together. 

He fished out his small umbrella and placed it in Kenmas' outstretched hand. He huffed approvingly and moved past him, actually using the handrail to walk down the stairs. Maybe he really is tired. Kuroo followed indignantly, betrayed by his own burning ears. He didn't even know why he was blushing but apparently, kind thoughts about his friend were cause for embarrassment. Honestly, he's not _that_ insecure. He's allowed to think nice things about people- especially Kenma. He just... doesn't know why Kenma is _'especially'_.

Kenma opened the umbrella and turned to face him, when his eyes fell on his schoolbag. Something in his face changed and suddenly he was shoving the umbrella into Kuroos' hands.

"Wha- _Kenma._ I can't carry the umbrella, your bag _and_ you no matter how strong you think I am."

He shook his head and pointed at his bag.   
"Don't carry me," he said flatly and Kuroo felt something akin to disappointment bloom in his throat. "Just, give me my bag. Take me home, but..." he looked down at his shoes, "I'm awake enough to walk."

So they did. Kuroo carried the umbrella low enough for his setter not to get wet. That didn't stop Kenma from clinging to his side though and Kuroo really couldn't help his endearing thoughts of, _'he's so warm when he's at my side'_ and _'his hands are... really small oh my god. How does he even set the ball like that?'_

He kept a small smile on his face, refusing to let the snail weather get him down with his best friend by his side.

\------

Kenma really couldn't help it.

Kuroo might be tall, but his umbrella wasn't nearly big enough to cover two people comfortably. So, he was stuck with the humiliating ( _comforting_ ) action of clinging to the spikers' side, hands gripping his loose jacket. They walked a while in silence, taking in the silver strings of rain coiling around them, the puddles of buzzing white noise and the wonderful smell of;

"Petrichor."

Kenma startled and looked up at him, meeting ashen honey eyes and a stupid nerdy grin. He doesn't know what to do about the open expression he's being given. It kind of feels like a gift he wasn't worthy of.

"What?" 

Kuroo smiled and gestured to the watery, moonwashed dreamscape around them. "That smell, when it rains," he explained, "it's called petrichor."

Kenma kind of stared at him for a second. It's easy to forget that Kuroo is actually a huge overachiever. He remembers the drama that went down when he couldn't balance extension Japanese and volleyball and would complain about all the topics he wouldn't get to cover because of it. He never considered leaving the team though, and Kenma isn't sure what he would have done if he had.

"Oh," he said softly, because he wanted to hear more but didn't know how to ask. "Is it... a Japanese term?"

Kuroo shook his head. "

"It's an English term, they stole it from the Greeks actually."

Before he could ask why he knew such a weird English term, he stopped walking. Kenma looked around and frowned. They'd arrived at their crossroads. Kuroo shifted awkwardly and stuck out the umbrella to him. 

"You take it. I generate more heat than your short body and I-" he stuttered, looking slightly at war with himself "-the team can't have you catching a cold, ok?"

Kenma smiled softly. Kuroo is a ridiculously honest person, so it's easy to read between the lines when he has trouble speaking his mind. 

_'don't get sick dumbass or I'll miss_ _you'_

"I won't I promise."

Kuroo smiled at that and bid him farewell with all the charm a bluster he usually has and Kenma turned on his heels and headed home.

Sleeping that night took a bit longer, but the rain cradled him as he lay there and soon his blankets coaxed his mind to dreamland. 

Petrichor still hung heavy in the air as he slept, and his black umbrella lay at the door, dripping with silver water.


End file.
